Psychoanalysis
by Eelfie
Summary: After capturing Phantom, Maddie asks the infamous ghost boy a few questions on his hero complex. What makes Phantom different from other ghosts? Why does he claim to be a hero? -COMPLETE-
1. Chapter 1

Maddie uploaded the last of Jazz's files onto the lab's data computer with a _bing_, signaling all the psychological questions were present for her use. She had wanted Jazz's recordings and findings for this particular project of hers; after all, the infamous ghost boy was just running with psychological mysteries.

It had been almost ridiculously easy to capture the elusive Phantom. Normally, she and Jack bumbled onto the scene, several seconds after Phantom had caught the ghost, and they'd exchange some witty banter before piling onto the weaponry. They'd shoot, and Phantom would turn invisible or intangible before he would even lift a finger in the fight.

This time around, Maddie had come up with the idea of going up to Phantom while he wasn't fighting a ghost. A few times, she had bumped into her son Danny, but by chance, she had caught _him_ while he was lounging in the park, staring almost lazily at the blue skies. Maddie knew ghosts were constantly obsessive, but the peace was enough to make her pause. Jack was the one with the portable ghost shield and ecto-guns, and from there, he had simply thrown the shield up, shooting Phantom into the cage holding him now.

She knew it was odd of her to be psychoanalyzing a town "hero" as both her children had put it, but she had wanted a full scientific explanation for Phantom's actions. The reasons why he destroyed property and endangered human lives would be enough to persuade others that Phantom was a menace rather than a hero, perhaps enough to convince her children. Hopefully. It was painfully obvious how they saw Phantom, like many others at Casper High.

Her husband Jack insisted on the physical aspect of science, and to be fair in paranormal studies, she had divulged into the mental aspects of ghosts. His catch-phrase, "I'll tear the ghost kid molecule by molecule" certainly showed his interests in that area. Maddie herself had wanted the luxury of examining the physical ectoplasm in the ghost boy's body, but she relented once Jack had begged for platters full of cookies and fudge in exchange. That, and the other parts of psychology.

Jazz was the expert in psychology, so after Phantom was secured in the lab with an anti-ghost shield and several human locks to ensure no accidents occurred, Maddie immediately went to her daughter to see what types of questions she had asked some of her previous cases. Jazz had been furious when she heard of Phantom's capture, to Maddie's surprise. She knew that Jazz knew all ghosts were inherently evil. But Jazz had furiously screamed she would not hand over the files, until Maddie calmly explained to her daughter Phantom was only to be used as a psychological experiment.

It was a reasonable request for such a small price. Jazz finally gave up after hearing Phantom would not be harmed, only contained for the time being. Maddie herself knew that if she did harm Phantom, there would be major trouble with the town's inhabitants. Many had turned to Phantom's side after the Pariah Dark incident, which Maddie had even herself wavering on her position. But science was science. Past experimentation had proven ghosts were incapable of emotions.

Which was why Phantom was the odd one out. Whatever physical evidence was gathered, Maddie was sure the results would add to any ordinary ghost, albeit a more powerful one—from experience, Maddie supposed. Phantom _had_ been fighting for nearly a year now, and it was reasonable that he would gain power in that way. But psychologically, and Maddie hated to admit this, Phantom believed he was saving people, whether or not the actual outcome showed it.

Hence Jazz's notes. Maddie sighed with relief at this early finish of the upload. Jack, who still insisted on tearing the ghost apart molecule by molecule, was currently out of the house, out with Vlad. The multibillionaire had first insisted on her presence, but Maddie knew this was the golden opportunity to ask the infamous Phantom some questions to prove he was capable of emotions. She had told Jack to go in her place instead, something Vlad found questionably irritating.

Maddie turned face Phantom once she hit 'print' on her computer screen. The sheets neatly stacked themselves on the board next to the beakers. Grabbing them, Maddie seated herself on a chair to fully examine the ghost boy in comfort.

He lazed around in the green shield, almost bored. Maddie found this intriguing. Despite having been trapped by ghost hunters, he gave no indication of fear. It wasn't to say he wasn't emotional at all. On the contrary, he looked like he was fiddling with his white hair to rid himself of the pure boredom. Like any ordinary teenager with nothing else to do.

For a second, Maddie let the words sink in, stopping her thoughts abruptly. Phantom looked like a teenager. That meant he had died as one. Perhaps he only stayed in Amity Park because it was his hometown from years ago. But that wasn't right. He had to have died recently, with his first appearance marked at almost a year now. It was impossible that he had died in Amity Park; she hadn't heard any of the news from town hall. Maybe he had lived in another nearby town? Or was it because the ghost portal finally worked, up and running thanks to her son Danny?

Maddie shuddered to think of what implications of an early death meant. Phantom must have been close to Danny's age. She winced as she thought of how Phantom had died—to think that her Danny could die at any moment's notice would be horrifying to her.

It would have to do as her first question, she decided. Might as well start with the big ones first. Maddie raised her chin, and looked directly at Phantom. He seemed to have noticed the questions were done uploading and was glancing expectantly at her.

"How did you die?" she asked, letting her voice drop to the flat-lined tone of a natural born scientist. There was no going around the question. It was as personal as anyone could get, she supposed. But even then, as she stared at Phantom's confused expression at her words, ghosts didn't necessarily remember how they had died, especially those who had been involved in an accident.

Phantom's brow furrowed, as though the question asked had been an excruciating difficult one to answer. It didn't seem to Maddie, however, that he didn't remember. He looked more or less like he was trying to pull it into words without revealing what actually happened. His luminescent green eyes stared at the ground and one of his gloved hands found its way to his neck, where he began rubbing furiously. A nervous habit, Maddie noticed as she marked the information on her sheet. It seemed curiously familiar.

"I…eh, well, I was electrocuted," he said lamely, as though it was all he could say. Maddie's eyebrow arched at the simplicity of his death. Electrocution was common, though it must have been a large shock to send the boy to his death. But it didn't particularly explain his obsession with fighting. Specifically, ghost fighting, as the ghost didn't seem to like harming humans like other ghosts.

"Why do you want to help people then?" Maddie asked. "Electrocution doesn't give any clear reason why you would be fighting your own kind, or even become a hero for that matter."

Phantom shrugged at the question. "I don't know why I wouldn't," he pointed out, his voice echoing slightly. "It's not like there are competent ghost hunters around…er, I mean, there's you guys, the Guys in White, and Va-the Red Huntress, but c'mon. You guys couldn't even capture the Box Ghost, and even the Red Huntress has trouble capturing ghosts like Johnny and Kitty. They're more of a nuisance than an actual threat."

"That ghost couple is particularly vulnerable to humans," Maddie retorted. Who was the ghost boy to say she wasn't competent? It was really just a matter of who had more time on their hands to track down all the ghosts. Phantom was a ghost and didn't go to school or have a job. Maddie had to file taxes, cook meals, and create ghost hunting equipment. Well, the ghost hunting equipment wasn't necessary, but ghost hunting was her job. Which meant she had to be well equipped with good technology before facing a ghostly opponent.

She released a breath. It wouldn't do to have anger built up inside her while interrogating a ghost. Not with Phantom especially. He was too dangerous, and with the newfound knowledge of his electrocution death, Maddie wasn't sure whether or not the shock from her new invention to keep ghosts in line was a good idea of a threat. It would make Phantom berserk and unleash his fury onto her.

Maddie glanced down at Jazz's notes. The first question listed was a good way of breaking down Phantom's supposed hero complex. She looked up at Phantom again, noting how his eerie green eyes seemed to be drilling into her curiously. They were filled with a mix of concern, boredom, and curiosity. He wasn't a ghost mentally, not with his constant display of human emotions.

"What do you feel when someone's in trouble?" Phantom's eyebrow rose at the question. It wasn't the usual "how did you become a ghost" question, Maddie knew, like she had asked before during one of their fights. It meant she was serious about the psychoanalyzing. It also meant admitting Phantom had feelings. This much was enough to give Maddie a headache, but Phantom wasn't like other ghosts. For crying out loud, she had caught him while daydreaming in the park.

Phantom stared at Maddie for a few more minutes before settling into his thinking stupor. "Um…I guess how most people feel," he said, frowning. "No, that's not it…most people just assume that someone else would take care of things for them. It's more like that person's in trouble and I feel like no one else would save them. It's like because someone's crying and you need to comfort them…"

He muttered to himself for a few moments. At his answer, Maddie jotted down the words, but now she looked back on them. It was unusual that he could analyze in such careful observance how the general public felt towards a danger, and even more so that he had stated he "needed" to comfort them. Was that his obsession then, as a ghost? To protect others from danger?

No. Phantom was lounging in the park during the day. She knew for a fact that ghosts who wanted to protect would create trouble in order to find something to protect. Undergrowth had showed that much. It was in any ghost's nature to continually find ways to obsess.

"What's your obsession?" she blurted out, not bothering to look down at the notes. Psychoanalyzing or not, she had to know what Phantom most desired. Looking at how or why he carried out his obsession wouldn't matter unless she knew exactly what he was made up of in order to stabilize him into the material world.

Phantom grinned at this, to Maddie's surprise. "I don't have one."

Maddie processed the words carefully. It was impossible. All scientific evidence proved he wouldn't exist without one. "You have to have one."

The ghost shook his head, a smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth. "That's your problem. I don't have one, and why should I? It's just going to weigh me down anyway."

"You're saying ghosts can choose to have an obsession?"

Phantom opened his mouth to answer…and then closed it. Once again, the frown was back. "No, that's impossible," he said. "Ghosts need an obsession to remain in the real world. I mean, even the Box Ghost chose something to materialize around here—and boxes aren't the best obsession to have. I think that actually has something to do with his death or something…but I guess to answer your question, no. Ghosts can't choose."

"Then what makes you different?" Maddie challenged. Phantom smirked at this, only further irritating her. It was as though Phantom _knew_ what made him different, and it didn't faze him in the slightest. The little bit of knowledge that he was emotional to situations, observant to social activities, and careful with his personal attachments and obsessions showed he wasn't similar to the other piles of ectoplasmic mess.

Maybe he was different physically too then, Maddie thought to herself. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea to examine Phantom by ectoplasmic splurts. It would explain all of the ghost's quirks and changes in personality separating him from the rest of his kind. Jack would have some use now—and upstairs, she could hear the front door opening, a loud thundering telling her that her husband was back from his day with Vlad.

"Mads, I'm home!" a voice boomed. Phantom looked up, a fleeting glance of worry in his expression before it faded into a nonchalant air. His arms folded—according to Jazz's notes, this meant he was blocking off further questions—in time for a physical check-up.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Phantom glanced warily back and forth between Maddie and Jackie. He seemed to be gauging them like they were not necessarily enemies but something to be cautioned. It was odd, Maddie thought. Despite his containment, Phantom was at ease with the two ghost hunters. Relatively speaking anyway…as much as a ghost could be at ease in a ghost hunter's house.

Maddie studied Phantom for a moment. He was watching the Fenton Bazooka currently resting on the lab table with wariness, his eyes locked onto the piece of weaponry while Jack leaned over it, muttering some phrase of how unfair it was he couldn't take apart the ghost boy. With a start, she realized why Phantom was acting the way he was. The ghost wasn't afraid of humans but the weapons. It said something of how she and Jack were treated in the ghost world, she supposed. Not particularly good but not bad either. Just another human.

"So, uh, are you going to ask some more questions or are you just going to wait until I explode?" Phantom's voice jerked Maddie out of her thinking. She frowned at the ghost but he continued nonetheless. "I can't really see what you're doing there…"

Jack twisted around, glaring at the ghost. "Mads says we can't tear you apart, ghost. I mean, all ghosts are evil! That's why we're here. But Mads wants to analyze you first for a lot of tests and experiments—"At this, Phantom winced. Maddie marked it down on her sheet, careful to keep herself out of his view. "—and I'm supposed to follow her."

"Now, now, Jack. You know we're scientists, so we can't just tear apart every experiment we have," Maddie said, touching Jack's shoulder with affection. "We have to make sure he's actually evil like the other ghosts before we can do anything."

It wasn't exactly what Maddie was thinking when she said those words, but her husband didn't have to know that she was having serious doubts on Phantom. After all, ghosts couldn't feel anything, much less feel fear in becoming an experiment. It was only an imprint of a human, not a living creature. Phantom was certainly different from other ghosts in terms of mentality.

A chilling thought ran through her. What if Phantom was human? That would explain a lot. His ability to feel emotions and lack of an obsession would fall into that category nicely. She paused, deliberating. If she took away the glowing green eyes and the stark white hair, he could look like any ordinary kid in his early teens. But the floating part and ghost rays from his hands didn't work.

She sighed, frustrated at the lack of information. It was one thing to study an ordinary ghost. But it was an entirely different subject matter when dealing with Phantom. He was like a hybrid, a cross between a human and ghost. For a moment, Maddie considered the prospect seriously. But the moment passed, and she shook her head. It was scientifically impossible to withstand the type of electrocution unless there was some sort of protection with the person. At the very most, highly unlikely.

And speaking of electrocutions…Maddie turned her attention back to the tools on the lab table. There was the ever present Fenton Bazooka, Fenton Crammer, Jack o' Nine Tails, Fenton Thermos, Fenton Extractor, and the Fenton Ghost Peeler. The Fenton Ghost Peeler had to be given to Jazz, Maddie reminded herself. She had seen her daughter's capability with that weapon, and it would immensely ease her to know that Jazz had some sort of protection against the ectoplasmic beings. And it was comforting to know Jazz at least had some of the ghost fighting genes passed down to her generation.

Her eyes glazed over until she found what she had been looking for. The Fenton Recorder. It was her latest invention, recording and analyzing ghost abilities and adjusting to a human's level. Jack thought the idea was ludicrous, pointing out how ghosts were ghosts and humans were humans, but Maddie wanted to find out the different possibilities of each. It was invented before she had examined Phantom a little closer, however, and somehow the information made her nervous. Anxious, even, for knowing that Phantom could be like a human in terms of abilities.

She grabbed the gadget and turned back to face Phantom. He was floating inside the containment now, his legs a wisp of a tail as he wandered over to the center. Jack had finally stopped mumbling to himself, facing Maddie with a newfound excitement. She sighed, shaking her head. Sometimes she wished her husband wasn't that much of a goof when it came down to paranormal science.

"Phantom," she said, grabbing his attention with a start. The ghost let out a shout, startled, and tumbled to the floor. Maddie noted that gravity seemed to work on him. Interesting. But once again, he managed to lift himself off the ground and face the ghost hunter with a slightly irritated expression evident on his face.

"What?"

_He sounds like Danny_, Maddie thought to herself. _I suppose all the teenagers are all the same though_. She shook her head, a slight smile plastered onto her face. It was amusing to note that she—a ghost hunter!—referenced her son to this ghost boy. Phantom was nothing like her Danny. Danny was clumsy, shy, and awkward while Phantom was a mess of ectoplasm formed from a past living being and capable of supernormal feats.

She was still chuckling as she held up the Fenton Recorder. "This is the Fenton Recorder," she stated.

Phantom waited for an explanation. Receiving none, he asked, with one eyebrow raised, "What does it do? Turn me into a puddle? Make some Jack Fenton toast with Fenton butter? Alter my speaking into some random 'ghost speak'—wait, that's the Fenton Ghost Gabber, I think."

Maddie was surprised at his knowledge of Fenton technology. She had certainly never told the ghost boy about any of her or Jack's inventions. It had given her an edge at times, she had thought, when the ghosts didn't know what the technology was capable of. If Phantom knew, did it mean he told the other ghosts of the other inventions? At times, she thought she had seen her technology used by the ectoplasmic beings, like the technology ghost or the self-proclaimed hunter. "How do you know so much about our inventions?"

Fear flashed on Phantom's face. It disappeared the moment it came, and Maddie wondered if she had seen it after all. "I, uh, I guess I take in more when we're fighting?"

It was more of a question. Maddie glared at the ghost, who held his hands up in defeat. "Fine, fine. You want to know? I kind of sneak in here sometimes to get a look at what I'm dealing with," he said, his hand rubbing his neck nervously. "That Fenton Bazooka _really_ hurts you know. When you sucked me into that portal that thing made, it nearly _squished_ half my face in."

Well. It explained why Phantom wasn't too eager to see the weapon lying in such close proximity to the two ghost hunters, especially not Jack as it had actually been a lucky shot at Phantom that he had made. But it didn't explain something else.

"Ghosts aren't solid. You can't mean your face was squished because your head would just twist until it fit the container," Maddie pointed out. It was strange how the basics of ghost build weren't known to Phantom. He was a powerful ghost, and by comparison, he should have known of the information easily. All ghosts could access the information by the arrival of the Ghost Zone. At least, the last ghosts she had captured had said they had simply known the information through their entrance to ghosthood.

Phantom blanched. Maddie watched as he started stuttering out an answer. "I, uh, guess it's just it hurts," he barely managed to get out. Phantom attempted to grasp at the evidence before a realization hit him. "Hey, wait a second! It doesn't matter if my head twists or not, it's still painful if you're crammed in that small space even if it is for a couple moments!" he exclaimed triumphantly, as though the little bit of point was a lifesaver.

Maddie decided to let him have the benefit of the doubt on that, though it was plainly obvious he hadn't thought anything strange about it until she had pointed the facts out. Phantom huffed at her obvious lack of acceptance. "Can't we just move on from my lack of ghostly knowledge? What does the Fenton Recorder do anyway?"

Jack stepped forward, his face lighting up into an oncoming rant. Maddie let her husband take control of the conversation this time around, recognizing his previous boredom with the questions. "It takes whatever level ghosts have and changes it into a human's level!" he said excitedly. "It tacks onto a ghost ray or strength or just temperature and changes it to numbers—Maddie'll figure everything out—and then I'll get to see how much better I am against spectral spooks!"

Maddie could tell Phantom hadn't understood a single word from Jack, his brow furrowing in intense concentration to solve the sentences as though it were an unsolvable math equation. She sighed and intervened. "Do you read any movie reviews?"

It was a strange question to ask a ghost, but it worked. Phantom nodded. "Yeah, of course I do! I love the new film _Nightmerica 3_, but the critics are always saying she captures her victims in the same way—" He caught Maddie's unimpressed expression. "Never mind. I guess I just sneak into movie theatres more often than I thought," he said sheepishly.

A sigh emanated from Maddie. Phantom was more similar to her Danny than she originally thought. But she pushed the thought away. "The Fenton Recorder is like the combination of two movie reviews together in one scale," she explained. "One review might give a film an eighty out of a hundred while another might give the same film an eight out of ten. Combining onto one scale, it would both be eight out of ten. Same meaning, but it's easier to base things on the same level."

"I guess that makes more sense, your simile." Phantom floated in the air, a thoughtful expression spreading onto his face. Suddenly he jumped in the air, pumping his fist up. Maddie instinctively reached for her ecto-gun, tucked into the folds of her jumpsuit, but Phantom fell back onto a cushion of air, a grin lighting up his face. "I actually know the difference between a simile and a metaphor! Yes!"

Maddie noticed Jack staring at the ghost boy. "How come your analogies always work, Mads?" he sighed dejectedly. "I thought I was doing a bang-up job explaining my new toy."

Feeling guilty, Maddie comforted her husband. "Just go upstairs, hon. I'll tell you the results later and then you can play with my new invention later."

"But there's nothing to do upstairs," Jack whined. "The TV broke (he had thought there had been a ghost in the house, but the Fenton Finder had only locked onto Danny _again_), the Ops Center door is broken (Danny had yet to install a handle), and even my action figures are gone (hidden beneath Jazz's bed, who claimed the 'dolls' were unsuitable for a grown man)."

Phantom's voice broke through their conversation. "Uh, Jack?" he said. Jack looked up with an unhappy expression. "There's fudge in the fridge."

Jack nearly ran over the Fenton Bazooka on the way out. Maddie folded her arms, glaring up at the ghost boy. "How did you know my husband liked fudge? Or rather, how did you know there was fudge in the kitchen?"

This time, Phantom didn't even miss a beat. "C'mon, Mo-Maddie. His _battle cry_ is 'fudge'," he snorted, waving a hand dismissively. "It's not like it's a secret. Besides, I see you sometimes on the way back from the store on that corner with piles of fudge and ghost hunting equipment."

It was a normal answer, Maddie supposed. The only thing that creeped her out was the idea that Phantom knew the town so well. He was a ghost, and shouldn't have known where the store was exactly, let alone where she shopped for groceries. It was just another aspect of Phantom that fell into the 'confusing' category, she supposed, and decided to move onto her actual experiment.

"Let's just start on the tests," she said, ignoring Phantom's slight flinch at her words. "The first one should be basic—just a simple run of your abilities. I assume you can do flight, intangibility, and invisibility? Those are the basic powers at every ghost." At this, Phantom nodded, though he looked queasy at the mention of "abilities". Maddie discreetly wrote her observation down. It would be good to know how he felt on his power levels.

"Alright then. Just show me all of those powers," she said. Phantom quickly faded into invisibility while the Fenton Recorder started whirring, scrolls of numbers rolling down the list. He popped back into visibility and flew around in a short circle around the ghost shield container. He turned intangible last, sticking his hand through the floor only to be met with a sharp shock. Phantom drew his hand back out, cradling it with a slightly mortified expression.

"What was that?" he demanded, eying the burnt part of his glove. Maddie winced for him. The burn looked as painful as Phantom looked it was. Red splotches marked the skin underneath the lines where the glove had melted, but overall it didn't seem as bad as it could have been.

"The containment is shaped like a sphere," Maddie explained, noting Phantom's glare at her without flinching. "You probably hit the bottom of it when you put your hand through the floor."

Phantom glared for a few more moments before dropping it. "Warn a guy next time," he said, albeit begrudgingly. "I don't like getting shocked or being in pain. It's like I'm getting electrocuted all over again."

Maddie thought the statement was odd, considering ghosts didn't feel pain at all. It was merely a setback for them, not a reaction to pain. The larger goal in each obsession kept the ghost focused only on one objective. Like the technology ghost…Technus. She had found him in one of the Fenton thermoses once, lying on the kitchen table where Danny had been eating his dinner after a late night with his friends Sam and Tucker. Technus wanted to rule the world, and merely saw the Fenton Ghost Gauntlets as a block standing in his way.

Yet Maddie couldn't help but feel sorry for having him experience the electrocution through a simple ghost containment invention. The idea of experiencing death twice seemed painful, especially if thousands of electric volts were involved. It was difficult wrapping her head around the idea that Phantom couldn't feel anything. If he could feel electric shocks, then there was possibility more than a "setback" in his mind.

"Hello? Maddie?" Phantom waved a hand in the air, attempting to gain back Maddie's attention. She shook her head to rid herself of the thoughts. It was coming in more often lately, with doubts clouding her mind. Phantom wasn't helpful in solving the mystery so far, and the answer, she could feel, was just beyond her grasp. She only needed to find out how to get there.

"I'm sorry, I was just thinking," she said hurriedly to cover up her thoughts. It was strange, apologizing to Phantom. But she couldn't worry about it, not in the name of science. "Let's try something else. You have other abilities like super strength and quick healing, right?" Maddie had seen Phantom lift school buses before with no effort, and every time she saw Phantom after a particularly difficult battle, he would be miraculously healed if a little worn out.

Phantom confirmed it. "I think I can lift somewhere around fifteen tons, but only if I concentrate on lifting it. I just can't think about how much something actually weights for it to work though; it's more of 'I'm lifting something heavy' not 'I'm lifting two hundred pounds'. As for fast healing, it does come in handy sometimes." He lifted his hand to prove his point. The red was entirely gone, leaving a pink shadow behind, while the glove had nearly re-stitched itself back together. There were only a few strands left to repair.

"Is the suit part of you?" Maddie asked, fascinated at the little feat of paranormalcy. Phantom looked surprised at this, but nodded anyway. It was something small, but Maddie jotted it down nevertheless. If the suit was a part of Phantom, he was more ghost-like than human. A human's last imprint of emotions left an impression on the ghost's physical body.

"How about an actual test?" Maddie suggested. "I'm going to put in a few tons in at a time. See if you can pick them up—and how many you can pick up." The test was designed to show not only Phantom's maximum strength, but also how much durability Phantom had. It was highly likely that Phantom would be able to lift several more tons with willpower alone.

She turned around to face the lab computer, typing in a few commands. A _thud_ told her that five tons had just entered the containment. A second yelp told her that it had landed on Phantom.

Phantom was lying flat on his back, holding up the five ton block in close proximity to his face. His expression clearly read 'not in the best of moods', and Maddie wondered if she had offended him by just asking him to test out his strength. It didn't seem like five tons was heavy for him. Phantom held up the block like it had only weighed as much as a textbook, if even that much. The Fenton Recorder reported the match.

She typed in a second command. A second _thud_ followed. Phantom didn't let loose a sound this time, and Maddie turned back to the containment. Phantom hadn't moved from his position, seeming to think the weight was extremely little again compared to its actual weight. Perhaps closer to the weight of Jazz's backpack. A _ding_ signaled a weight matching with a human's ability to lift twenty-five pounds. It wasn't exactly the lightest with the textbooks crammed into every open pocket, but it wasn't heavy as a bus either.

A third _thud_. This time Phantom let out a grunt, forcing his arms to straighten from the impact. It seemed fifteen tons wasn't his limit after all. The added weight appeared to be as heavy as her son Danny, at eighty pounds. Maddie inwardly sighed at this. Eighty pounds was light for a high school student, but her son had always been lightweight, especially after the accident where he had lost pounds by the day.

"Phantom," she called. Phantom let out a grunt to show he was listening. "I'm going to add five hundred pounds at a time now. If you need to stop, just say the word." At this, Phantom seemed to recognize with the way his eyes narrowed.

She typed in a command, switching the commands to seven hundred pound blocks. Well, what Phantom didn't know wouldn't hurt him. It would be interesting to see how much more Phantom could take based on his presumptions.

A quieter _thud_ and a grunt later, Phantom's arms bent. He pushed upwards to straighten them, but Maddie noticed the angle wasn't at one eighty. Angled just a bit lower than what it should have been, Phantom must have been starting to feel pressure kick in, she thought, examining his expression. It was mostly blank, if not for the furrowing of his brow. His concentration was obvious.

Maddie turned around. Phantom was currently at fifteen thousand seven hundred pounds. The Fenton Recorder paused at the weight of one hundred pounds. It was the numbers that made Maddie pause. Starting at five human conversion pounds, it went up to twenty-five, eighty, and one hundred, although the last one didn't quite count. Did this mean that the equal distribution of weight in human pounds was uneven for a ghost's strength?

It was a strange thought. Maddie absentmindedly pressed 'enter', not listening to Phantom's grunts as she mulled over her data results. The other ghosts had proportionally lifted weights, in equal shares similar to a human's. It was an abnormal result on Phantom's part, and not for the first time, Maddie wondered why Phantom was different.

Unconsciously she hit 'enter' again. If Phantom was different in terms of human emotions and abilities, there was an abnormality in his build. In some way, there had been a sort of ectoplasmic interference when Phantom had died. There was no other explanation.

The sound of feet coming down to the lab alerted Maddie. She looked up only to see Jazz's furious expression. Jazz stared at Phantom, who, Maddie realized guiltily, had been calling to her attention for the last few minutes. Maddie quickly hit the suction key, and the weights lifted off of Phantom, disappearing into the tubes.

Her daughter turned to Maddie, tapping her foot. "I thought you said you were only going to ask questions, _Mom_."


	3. Chapter 3

Maddie stared at her daughter with some surprise. It had been a while since Jazz had stood up against her, the last time back in the beginning of Danny's freshman year during the accident. Though it was comforting to know Jazz cared passionately for morals, it was also slightly disconcerting to know Jazz still thought Phantom was inherently good. Not that Maddie doubted herself anyway, especially when it came to her children. There was no inkling of doubt when Jazz and Danny were involved that ghosts were evil.

Her daughter's chin was lifted, pointed to directly face Maddie in the face. There was defiance in her eyes that she hadn't realized was there previously, something Maddie thought could have come from Danny. Danny had hardened, however little it was, putting distance between him and Maddie. Maybe Jazz had developed the same teenage habits, albeit late ones.

"Ja—I mean, fellow citizen!" Phantom's voice interrupted the staring contest between Maddie and her daughter. They both looked up to see Phantom's slightly uncomfortable expression plastered neatly onto his face. His brow was furrowed slightly, as though he were deciding on a course of action. Maddie thought it was odd that a simple conversion had the infamous ghostly hero in a mix. Another strange touch to Phantom's character.

"Are you okay Phantom?" Jazz asked, sisterly concern—to Maddie's surprise—creeping at the edges of her voice. It was only with Danny who she ever spoke to someone like that…unless it was one of her psychoanalysis patients. In this case, Maddie supposed, it was more likely it was for psychology than a sibling bond. After all, Maddie herself had just attempted to ask Phantom questions for the last hour or so. It was reasonable Jazz would ask for concern after Maddie had neglected to observe Phantom, even if it was for a few minutes.

Jazz inched closer to Phantom's containment unit. She reached out with one hand, touching the edges briefly before the edges rippled. It melted instantaneously for her hand, and Jazz's eyes widened as she realized the containment could only hold ghosts. Maddie smiled fondly. Jack had finally gotten an invention right without having her to fix it. But the smile was wiped away the moment Jazz fell into the containment, landing roughly onto the ground.

"Jazz!" Maddie jumped from her chair, only to see Phantom's hand reaching out to help her daughter up. Jazz accepted with hesitation, Maddie thought with approval, as she rubbed her temples furiously. Phantom looked slightly concerned for Jazz, his concentration no longer on Maddie or the containment wall. He opened his mouth to speak but Jazz beat him to it. "I'm fine. It's just like a normal fall, I think. Right, Mom?"

Maddie nodded, short. There was a sort of tension in the room, she noticed, a tension that didn't quite link up with simply a ghost hunter and ghost conflict. It seemed as though Jazz's presence made the conversation between the two formerly alone presences muddled and confused. Anxiety was amplified more now than before and it didn't have to do with Jazz's sudden drop into the cell.

It was a brief moment before anyone spoke. Phantom cleared his throat, awkwardly looking between Jazz and Maddie. To Maddie's surprise, he didn't seem to be the hero character like previously, instead seeming like a stranger caught in the middle of a family fight. Maddie didn't think of it in that sense. Rather, it was simply a moment where no one could think of a solution. Jazz, after all, was stuck inside a containment unit.

Jazz glanced up at the containment wall, still fizzing and swirling slightly. "Mom? Can humans get out of these containment things?" she asked, pointedly ignoring Phantom's sudden interested expression. "Did Dad make this two-way or is there no way out without releasing everything?"

It was only a fraction of second's hesitation but Maddie knew Jazz and Phantom had already picked up the sign before a single word had escaped her mouth. "There's no way out, sweetie, unless I release the containment entirely."

Silence. Maddie felt a pressure as she glanced at the two figures. Jazz glared at the ground, her brow furrowed. It was identical to the expression Phantom wore, surprisingly frowning at the new information. Ghosts would have normally been glad to know Maddie's dilemma, freedom in their reach. Of course, she could let Jazz go, but that would also mean one of her greatest captures would go back with her. Then again, she could keep Jazz inside the containment unit until after the questions were completed. She had, as Jazz pointed out, only wanted to ask a few psychoanalysis questions.

If the two solutions were it, Maddie knew which option she would go for…Family came first, even over a potential break-through in paranormal science. Jazz would have to be released, and though Jack would be disappointed, it was better than waiting for a miracle escape route from the containment unit. Phantom, she supposed, would simply leave, and she and Jack would have to capture the ghost boy again. Somehow. Maddie knew she hadn't been capable of capturing him in the first place. Jack was the more direct ghost hunter.

Jazz finally looked up from the ground, her expression blank. Maddie frowned—this wasn't the usual Jazz thinking face. It was more of an emotion-free air around her, as though she didn't want anyone to know what she had planned. For a second, Maddie thought she saw Phantom give her a knowing look. Then it was wiped away in the moment, like it hadn't been there at all.

"I guess we'll just have to release the unit then," Jazz said, her voice perky despite the expression. It contrasted sharply, this tone of voice. Maddie immediately concluded she was up to something. Though her children never knew it, she had picked up on more things than they knew, including Danny's poor grades in English and Jazz's close call during Spirit Week. "Unless you wanted me to stay inside here, Mom?"

It was only a question, but Maddie felt this was one of Jazz's psychology tests. If she made a mistake here, Jazz would record it as part of her family log, her infamous memoir. She had kept files on how Maddie and Jack reacted, though there was a strange lack of Danny's log. Jazz would place her as "obsessive over career". That was certain. She didn't want to be known—by her own daughter—as one of those workaholics.

"No, no sweetie," Maddie responded in return to Jazz's test. "I'm not keeping you inside with a putrid ecto-plasmic manifestion of post-human conscious—er, ghost. That wouldn't be right." Maddie shut off her long-winded explanation of ghost at Jazz's expression.

At this, Phantom looked offended, one of his eyes twitching comically. Maddie smiled briefly at the emergence of Phantom's hero ego, which had, she noticed, broken the sudden tension. It was a relief to be free from the anxiety, even if it had been there only for a few minutes.

She turned around to face the control panel, scanning her eyes over the many buttons, keys, and levers. The release key was somewhere between the emergency ghost shield and the Jack Fenton toaster. But again, Maddie sighed, Danny had forgotten (or ignored) his chores. It would take a while to find the correct switch, she surmised as she tossed a crumpled up invention blueprint into the garbage.

Behind her, Jazz looked at Danny expectantly. He shrugged, unable to come up with a reasonable response. Like Jazz, Danny had assumed his mom wouldn't have released Phantom for the world. After all, Jazz wasn't in immediate danger and it wasn't as though it was permanent, the captivity. Well...Phantom was dangerous in her eyes. Maybe that explained the maternal instinct to protect.

"Should I get Sam and Tucker?" Jazz whispered to him. "You know, once I get out."

Danny frowned. "No, there's no point. I'll be released too, Jazz. Tucker and Sam don't have to know anything about this—well, Tucker'll just make fun of me for a good few weeks if he finds out and Sam would probably kill me for getting caught. And I doubt Mom's going to be able to catch me again, so…"

"Are you sure, Danny?" Jazz asked with her voice low enough that Danny had to strain to hear. "I mean, they are your friends. You can't keep everything from them or you'll end up hurting yourself. Have you even told them about Undergrowth yet?"

"No," he admitted sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck furiously. "But it's not like it's important."

"Not important?" Jazz echoed in disbelief. "Dad might one day actually tear you apart molecule by molecule. Or Mom might go a little too far with her tests. And you know you could develop psychological instability, if you haven't already. You're already having serious difficultly managing schoolwork and hero work, with you falling asleep in class all the time and even that tech-ghost—"

"Technus," Danny corrected absentmindedly.

"—actually has a chance nowadays to capture you. You're getting a bit sloppy with both sides. You need your friends, Danny."

Danny frowned at Jazz's words. It wasn't as though he was failing all of his classes, although his C in English was coming close. As for the ghosts, Danny was sure his sister hadn't known about the close call with Technus two days ago. In the end, he _had_ captured Technus, along with all the computers and TVs that were being controlled.

"Jazz, I'll be fine by myself," he said. "I'm not going to let them get hurt and I'm not going to let myself go that far that I'd have to use other people to push myself back up. Besides, I'm a hero."

"You're also a growing teenage boy," Jazz huffed, her voice rising. "You have to—"

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny saw his mom shift slightly, and he clamped a hand over Jazz's mouth before her voice rose to a screech. None of them dared to move until the woman started shifting herself over to the computer area, her back entirely to the containment unit.

Danny released his sister. "Come on, Jazz. I know I'm a teenager too, but who else is going to save all the people from ghosts? Mom? Dad? Valerie? They don't know the ghosts as well as I do."

"I'm just _saying_, Danny, that maybe you should share the hero work with them."

"I do," Danny protested. "They cover for me when I'm in detention or Mom and Dad tell me that I have to do chores."

"That's not enough," Jazz argued back. "They don't watch your back when it's three in the morning and Ember gets out, or when it's during class and that morphing ghost—"

"Amorphus."

"—gets loose and causes havoc!" Jazz folded her arms. "I could help too. I'm already covering for you at home."

"And you're doing a great job," Danny said, exasperated. "I'm a hero, not you. I appreciate the help but I don't want you getting hurt. Remember when I told you about Dan? I don't want that to happen to anyone, especially not you. You're my big sis."

"Who needs to protect you." Jazz stared at her brother, eyes narrowed. Danny fell silent at this. He hadn't meant to reveal so much to his older sister but it had come out anyway. Jazz was right when she said he was barely functioning as it was. It was tiring to play both roles at all times.

But he wouldn't quit heroism. He needed to protect them, and whatever psychoanalysis Jazz had about this, Danny wasn't for it. Protecting people was his job, at least here in Amity Park.

"Jazz, I'm going to pro—"

"Found it!" Maddie exclaimed triumphantly. Danny shut his mouth as he turned around, his "Phantom ego" mask once again back. The release button had been covered, almost conveniently, by the Fenton Bazooka. She pressed the small red key, the switch sparking, sparking—and then it fizzed out, the energy dissipating.

Jazz looked at the button. "Uh, mom? Is it supposed to do that?"


	4. Chapter 4

Maddie fumbled over a notebook filled with formulas and equations. The college days had been when she had bothered to research on a ghost's psychology with mathematical and scientific numbers and symbols. Taking careful notes was how she managed to secure a career she believed to be fruitful, something she could take home to her family and show off her stunning break-through, perhaps even an award for her efforts.

But it'd been in vain. Here she was, once again studying with a psychological eye on paranormal creatures, namely, ghosts. There was something of a twenty-year gap standing in her way, where she had developed only weaponry to fend off these ectoplasmic beings. That, and a way to meet ghosts—the Fenton portal.

A frown twisted itself onto her expression, brief flickers melding their way through her careful mask she kept on. After all, Jazz and Phantom were right behind her, and Maddie didn't want Phantom to see her weakness. It was a shocking realization that her daughter had made her see. Psychological analysis had been her first interest, like Jazz. It had simply manifested into a growing obsession with ghosts. The thought made Maddie dizzy.

Even if she had created a portal to the Ghost Zone, which she supposed was in actuality an amazing invention by itself, Maddie didn't like to admit that she had come that close to leaving her daughter to the evils of Phantom. She had debated…all for some graduation thesis that had come too far.

She wouldn't make the same mistake again.

Maddie imagined the thought leaving her brain, taking a door out to an empty white space, and dumping it unceremoniously out of her consciousness. There. All she would do now would be analyzing Phantom's characters, nothing more. At least, until she thought Phantom was endangering her children. That would provoke her back into creating weaponry. Jack could deal with capturing ghosts. She would protect.

_And now, where was that release key again? _Maddie thought, skimming her eyes over the technology. It was a rather bright, bright red in fact, and a blush came to her face. If only Phantom knew her greatest weakness was a lack of color coordination. She couldn't see the difference between shades altogether that well. Her latex jumpsuit was proof enough. Jack's was an orange while hers was a blue. It didn't match at all, and it'd taken her about sixteen years to realize that, when Danny had pointed out why the Mansons disliked them greatly.

But she would not be daunted. The color wouldn't mock her. Maddie brushed her fingers over the messy data table, reaching out with an almost sixth sense to feel it. A good number of martial arts had honed her skills to the sharpest point. It didn't disappoint—Maddie found it hidden underneath the Fenton Bazooka. Typical Jack. He _would_ leave the weaponry on top of the button that would reverse the capture.

She reached out, shifting her position slightly to hit the button. It was a sticky key, a malfunction due to a lack of spending money. Jack had (though she loved him dearly) spent most of it on fudge. The rest had been split between Jazz's psychology books and Danny's school fines. The slip had stated Danny's clumsiness cost the science department another three beakers, though Maddie couldn't see how many beakers he could have dropped within a month.

A voice stopped Maddie from reaching the button. Jazz's. Maddie could barely make out the words, though it was steadily rising in volume.

"…growing teenage boy!" Jazz exclaimed. At this, Maddie shifted, straining her ears to hear. This was curious. "You have to—"

Suddenly she was abruptly cut off. Maddie sucked in a breath. Was Phantom muffling her daughter? And what was the argument about? The silence made it difficult for her to think. She had to move. Movement. Phantom wouldn't release Jazz until he was sure she hadn't heard.

Maddie shifted towards the computer. It would give her room to think, without having any interruptions. Phantom couldn't see anything if her back was entirely turned. Their argument, whatever it consisted of, would be contained enough. She was sure Jazz could handle herself, especially if she had already figured out Phantom's psychological state of mind. The entrance to the containment unit, she suspected, hadn't been entirely innocent.

The blank screen of the monitor stared back at her. She closed her eyes, briefly. Jazz was arguing—was still arguing, Maddie corrected, as whispers were still plainly evident behind her—but about what? She had said Phantom was a teenage boy. No…a _growing_ teenage boy. That was an unusual statement. Phantom was a ghost. Did that mean, then, that Phantom could grow as a human could? There were the abnormalities in his physical and mental states. The weight limits weren't proportional. Neither were his observances of human nature.

Maddie mentally slapped herself. Phantom couldn't grow as only the living could and he was certainly not human. He had most of the capabilities of a ghost, and therefore could not be living. It wouldn't be right to assess him as such. Frowning, Maddie struggled to grasp the meaning of her daughter's words. Grow. It could also mean to grow as a ghost. Only, she remembered, ghosts grew into an obsession, not into a physical difference. Phantom must have been attempting to grow as a ghost, having died recently. Then his obsession was…?

For a moment, Jazz's reactions to Phantom came back to her. The psychoanalysis notes—which were still lying on the desk—and the fall into the containment unit showed her daughter wasn't all that indifferent to paranormalcy as she claimed to be_. Jazz must know_. No doubt could cloud her mind at this point. Jazz already studied on Phantom.

Maddie wondered why Jazz hadn't simply shared her notes, then. Jazz was unbiased always when it came to new topics. Perhaps she hadn't liked what she had found, and was now attempting to change Phantom so that she, Maddie, wouldn't be entirely right when she said all ghosts were inherently evil. It was a solid reason, but something still didn't feel quite right. Little clues were eluding her.

She tilted her head slightly, one ear cocked towards the conversation between Jazz and Phantom. They had moved on from Phantom's growth to a job. Phantom's job.

"…I'm a hero, not you. I appreciate the help but I don't want you getting hurt," Phantom said, his voice still in the eerie echo. Maddie twisted slightly, but the next few words were lost to her. Apparently, whatever Phantom said next wasn't meant to be heard by anyone else. His voice dropped too low, barely a whisper. Maddie marked the trait mentally in her head. Whatever Phantom didn't want known, he certainly wasn't going to use a loud voice. So, Maddie turned over the words she had heard inside her head, thoughtful.

_Hero_. Maddie remembered all the past times where Phantom had stated he was a hero. The mayoral incident completely overruled this, although Maddie recalled the Pariah Dark event. Phantom helped then, but at the first glance, Maddie told herself it was because of Phantom's endangerment in his hometown, the Ghost Zone. Not that she knew whether or not Phantom had even visited the ghostly dimension, considering his serious lack of ghostly knowledge. She hadn't.

The next part Maddie found difficultly analyzing. Phantom was receiving help, apparently from Jazz. Maddie knew Jazz held a certain respect for ghosts, like ordinary humans, but she didn't believe her daughter would be foolish enough to aid an evil manifestation of ectoplasm. It was against the rules of every ghost hunter's family member to help, even if Phantom battled other ghosts and claimed to be ridding to town of ectoplasmic messes.

Maybe Phantom didn't mean help with his "job" catching ghosts. Perhaps, she thought, it was the current situation. Maddie was sure of Jazz's prior analysis of Phantom. She was simply being herself, her sweet Jasmine Fenton, who just had a serious interest in psychology, and was now analyzing Phantom. Jazz had used the words "growing teenage boy" after all.

But then, Phantom didn't want this psychoanalysis help. Perhaps he was so deeply ingrained into the idea of a self-made hero that no one could reverse the effects. It was his obsession, playing out the part of the hero. Maddie shook her head after a brief pause in thought. Phantom hadn't been following this obsession when Jack had captured him. Even later he stated he didn't have an obsession, at the time seeming truthful. No, he didn't have an obsession.

Maddie furrowed her brow, thinking while she shifted around stacks of lined paper. Ghosts could grow into an obsession, and usually, she remembered, it often took only a few years until the obsession took over as part of the forefront personality. Phantom was a relatively new ghost, but then again, his powers were increasing exponentially. Jazz meant the growth of his powers, not his obsession. The self-made hero, on the other hand, was simply a personality trait left from Phantom's past life, although Maddie had to wonder what kind of a life he must have led for this peculiarity to still remain.

Then what was next? "I don't want you getting hurt," Phantom had said. Maddie rolled around in the idea that Jazz was somehow on an individual level with Phantom, but that didn't seem right. It had to be (and she wouldn't think otherwise) that Phantom still thought himself as a superhero. She recalled the numerous times she had watched paranormal films and the countless phrases like "I don't want you getting hurt". All the vampire movies, werewolf films, ghostly paranormal reports…

It wasn't right. Maddie narrowed her eyes, despite Phantom's inability to see her with her back turned. It couldn't be right that a ghost had feelings, emotions, even if they were as plain and typical as the next shimmering bloodsucker. After all, Maddie considered herself to be some sort of hero, as the ghostly residential expert. She protected the students at Casper High along and the townspeople in the expanse of Amity Park. A ghost would not usurp her in the realm of a protectorate. Even now, she could here Phantom saying, "I'm going to pro—"

At this, Maddie let her ghost envy take over, barely recognizing her own voice as she chirped out, "Found it!" in passing. The little red button pushed downwards, and she could feel anticipation for the release of Phantom. She didn't want some fake and obviously acted out superhero child taking her place. And her children! Danny and Jazz, they were shadowed by the belief that ghosts could hold the capability to be good. The thought was absurd!

But the button sparked…sparked…

It didn't turn on. Maddie frowned, examining the button. Outwardly there appeared to be nothing wrong. The inside then? Maddie could hear Jazz behind her asking a question, but she ignored it. Jack designed the containment unit—Maddie shook her head at this realization. Of course her husband would make a troubled piece of machinery, like all the Fenton Finders that had failed by Danny's interference. She sighed, taking note to bring it up with Jack before she went to bed tonight.

"Is the wire plugged in?" Maddie turned around, startled. There Phantom was, attempting to fix the problem, yet Maddie couldn't hear a single note of hope for his freedom. It was something else, something close to resignation. She tilted her head, frowning at Phantom's tone of voice. Odd, it was certainly. But this whole time Phantom had been acting strangely for a ghost.

She shook her head once more, and glanced back at the wire. Sure enough, Phantom was right. Maddie knelt down below the table and picked up the rubbery tube. It was another thing, here, to note that Phantom couldn't have been able to see the plug from his vantage point…or the outlet. She thought back to the few other times where the machinery hadn't worked from a lack of an electrical source. There was the Spectre Speeder once, while charging for the first time. No, there had been another piece of technology.

Then it hit her. The Fenton Ghost Portal! Danny had been shocked, slightly, but nothing was broken. Nothing painful either, as his friends had admitted almost guiltily. The lack of notice towards the little things in life was now a habit for Maddie, and Phantom had successfully found her flaw. It was a sad moment of truth.

The moment passed the second she pushed the plug into the outlet. The sparks above her lit up, and it was less than a second before the containment cell slid out into nothingness. Green light disappeared on the walls, and Maddie found that the room was significantly dimmer than before. She reached up, turning on the light before turning back to face the scene.

There, Jazz had already brushed herself off. Maddie sighed as she realized Phantom was long gone. Maybe the idea of plugging the machine in wasn't entirely innocent on the ghost kid's part. He was ultimately a ghost, after all.

Jazz glanced over at her mother, who seemed drained of her usual energy. It was like Maddie had simply shut herself off, as though—Jazz saw—the last hour had been draining away at her mental health. Obsession hadn't come from Danny's ghost habits. It'd come from her mother's unhealthy lifestyle in surrounding herself with work. Jazz felt a guilt rise up.

So to cover it up, Jazz simply walked over to her mother, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and walked out of the lab.


	5. Chapter 5

To Danny, the sudden release of freedom was possibly one of the worst occurrences of the night. Alas, it was only later did he realize what he had caused—with a little help from Jazz, of course.

The split second in which the containment unit shed its ghostly shield, Danny sped out upwards, shooting up to catch the setting sun's air. It was the time of day where the golden and ruby rays sparkled, giving way to a more tranquil scene with the stars. That was the cycle of beauty, where the ending scene showed a brilliant array of innocence. Innocence, Danny thought, that he no longer owned anymore. His dream of becoming an astronaut was rather far-fetched with his plans of heroism.

Settling down on the rooftop of the Ops center, Danny leaned back against the metal. The silvery sheen glinting off the sunlight made for a pretty scene—almost as pretty as Sam's eyes, he thought to himself. _I should tell her about Mom_. But he didn't want to move, despite his rather eager desire to be with her. It was the sort of time where he could relax without worry of ghosts, even if the dragon ghost Dora or Vlad himself decided to show. A fight would merely destroy the peace in Amity Park, even if it was only for a few minutes until the sun dipped down below the horizon.

He sighed, pausing to brush away a strand of white hair that was swaying with the breeze. No, he hadn't transformed back into Fenton. He didn't want to deal with normal kid duties as of the moment, which meant Sam and Tucker's urgent phone calls to his location or his homework…although Danny doubted he would ever touch Lancer's book report. He didn't have the motivation to finish reading the book, or even simply to just watch the film. It was just a waste of his time.

He had two responsibilities to undertake his time otherwise. As Phantom, Danny held impeccable responsibility to the citizens to protect them from ghosts, whether it was fighting or capturing. As Fenton, Danny had to pretend to be normal by showing up to class and hanging out with his friends.

At this, Danny frowned. It had never occurred to him how he viewed Fenton before. Was Fenton all that necessary then? Danny Fenton, the geek and loser of Casper High, unable to fend against school bullies like Dash and frequently laughed at for a lack of suave and intelligence, was the same person as Danny Phantom, all time superhero and protector of Amity Park. Fenton merely served as a cover…

He shook his head frantically. Dan Phantom of the future had showed what he was like without his human self. Right now, in the present, he was both Fenton and Phantom. He couldn't let go of Fenton, or else he'd be digging his own grave for a disaster. Fenton was necessary to ground him to the human realm, where emotions and perceptions were as important as his abilities enhancing his capability to protect those he cared about. Emotions gave him his reasoning and base for Phantom. Without Fenton, Phantom would have nowhere to go.

And besides, he thought, _I was Fenton first_. He was the son to a family of ghost hunters, and had that blood running in his veins. It may have been latent in its appearance, but it was there nonetheless. Phantom was a ghost hunter, a reminiscent and origin to his humble beginnings only in a ghost's body.

Strange. He'd almost lost touch with his human half. Perhaps things weren't so interesting when he was learning about Shakespeare in English or panting heavily in gym. For a moment, Danny considered how easily humans fell prey to curiosity and intrigue. All around him, those he cared about had to fight their way through mediocrity. Including Jazz, who'd always been special because of her intelligence and charm.

Danny smiled. Jazz was always special, though he would never admit that to her face. She cared, enough to keep his secret even before he had known about her knowledge of his ghostly abilities. And she was popular at school even as the smartest student there. Jazz was human but she was always fighting for the best. And maybe it was rather because she was human that she fought hard for her place.

Danny paused, letting the thought seep into his mind. Super powers meant next to nothing when it came to motivation. His homework was proof, as his sister often pointed out. Maybe _she was right while we were talking in the shield_, Danny thought. I do need all of them—Sam, Tucker, Jazz—to keep my motivation high.

Her psychoanalysis was right again, he sighed. Jazz was _never_ wrong. He needed to be more open with his ghost half, to keep the balance in his life evenly split…starting with a visit to Sam's house.

Besides. The stars were out.

"Hair check, breath check, ghost-attire-and-not-just-boxers check," Danny muttered to himself. "All good."

He jumped into the air, spiraling in the eastern direction. Sam's house was among the few that stood out in town with its turrets and large stain-glass windows. Even Fenton Works, which Danny found personally embarrassing especially since the neon sign could be seen all the way to the Nasty Burger, had a challenger for the most obvious living place. Somehow, Danny didn't know how he hadn't realized Sam's enormous wealth until a few months into freshman year. The evidence had stared right at him.

But then, even his parents hadn't figured out his alter ego after nearly a year. Danny frowned, the wind mussing his hair back as he flew steadfast towards Sam's mansion. He had made the decision a month following the accident to keep his ghost half a secret. He had deliberately hid it. And now, the psychoanalysis Jazz depended on told him secrets weren't worth keeping, at least not with the ones he trusted. Did that mean he should reveal his double identity?

_One at a time, Fenton_, Danny thought to himself. _Start with the ones who already know_. It was reassuring to know his brain still functioned enough to calm himself down. The trio, whom Tucker had gleefully called them, wouldn't keep secrets from this point forward. He thought back to before the accident. They had just been "friends", "best friends" even. They hadn't been that close until a secret forced them together. He'd learned about Sam's secret wealth, and Tucker's envious attitude towards super abilities. Well. It didn't change their personalities, but tolerance of each other was more profoundly impacted than Danny had first thought possible. In the beginning, he remembered, they couldn't even get through lunch without an argument—admittedly over herbivores versus carnivores.

The flight pleasantly smoothed out his feelings. At just the right temperature and breeze level, Danny let himself glide on the wind, opening his arms out to swoop in Sam's direction. It was beautiful out, the stars shimmering in all their glory of the night. But then, the flight had to end.

Danny landed softly onto Sam's window sill, catching most of the weight on the balls of his feet. Inside, Sam appeared to be using the Fenton Phones, wringing her hands in despair. One hand continually touched the technology, sending a reply back to who Danny assumed to be Tucker. Invisible, Danny phased through the wall.

"Look Tucker, I don't know where he is, he hasn't picked up his phone," Sam snapped. "He could have been grounded or at worst, taken by Plasmius, and how am I supposed to know when that—"

"Vlad?" Danny scoffed, flickering into visibility. "I wouldn't let that fruit loop _anywhere_ near me."

"Danny!" Sam shrieked. Danny picked up a faint screeching on the other side of the line and a following "Dude! You're alive!"

"Did you think I died?" he replied, raising his voice slightly to answer Tucker's question on the communicator. He walked over to Sam's bed and collapsed onto it, ignoring Sam's affronted look at the bed's newly made imperfection.

"You're already dead," Sam pointed out. "And besides, where were you? I thought the worst had happened—last time was when Valerie caught you with Danielle! You could have at least called us back. I left at least ten messages on your cell." On the Fenton phones, Danny could pick up a faint murmuring in agreement.

"Did you?" Danny asked, pulling out his own phone as he settled in deeper into the comfy pillows. He scrolled down the list, a sheepish grin lighting up his face. Sam had indeed called well over ten times. "I didn't realize you guys cared so much. And besides, I just escaped."

Sam's eyes popped wide. "What? Escaped from where?"

Danny sighed. This was perhaps the one trait in Sam that Danny found particularly…interesting. At times, he would be injured and Sam's mother mode would kick in. She kept bandages and piles of extra clothes in her school locker in case he injured himself and bled, and even compiled a list of "Phantom excuses" to get out of class with him. But other times, like this, she wanted to desperately protect as though Danny would never return. Mother mode clicked on in an instant, smothering him with concern. He supposed, however, that this was a valid excuse, considering his record.

He rubbed the back of neck nervously. "Well, I, ah, got caught by my parents today," he said, attempting to sound breezy in order to dissuade his friend. "It wasn't that big of a deal. I just got held up when I was patrolling the park."

"What?" Sam screeched. Danny flinched at the rise in volume, clutching his ears in pain. Sam could be terrifying when she wanted to be. And now, she wanted to be terrifying. Her amethyst colored eyes glared down at him, her hands firmly rested on her hips. Somehow, Danny knew people would laugh if they could see their town hero cringing at the wrath of a Goth. Fate liked seeing him uncomfortable.

On the phones, Danny heard a "I'm sure you were patrolling" by Tucker. In his mind, he winced slightly, knowing that his friend was right in that point. He hadn't been patrolling at all; he'd been too busy daydreaming and attempting to catch up on his sleep…and the psychoanalysis stated he definitely needed some Fenton time. Both his friends wanted to help him succeed in his occupation of protecting others.

He sighed. "Pass me a Fenton phone. I don't want to tell the story twice."

Sam glared at him for another moment longer before tossing one to him. Danny caught it deftly in one hand, reaching up to hook the technology to his ear.

"Hey Tuck."


	6. Chapter 6

Maddie didn't quite know when the last time it was when she was this depressed.

Phantom escaped. Her test subject disappeared, and she knew she didn't have the heart to capture him again. He acted too human during her experiments. And Phantom wasn't stupid; he wouldn't get caught twice in the same mistake.

The only good part of the entire day, she reasoned, was Jazz's kiss on the cheek. She was surprised her daughter was still close enough to voluntarily show affection, even at the risk of being seen by the ghost kid. The best aspect of motherhood was the smothering affection of her children. Only, Maddie thought, when it was rare to come, it was all the more treasured.

She sat at the kitchen table, moodily glancing at the oven. Dinner time was coming close, and she hadn't even started up preparing a meal. Or ordered out, which Danny fondly called relief from the ectoplasm-ridden hot dogs and burnt pieces of Jack Fenton toast. Guilt rose up in her throat. She didn't have to let her children go hungry even for one night simply because she couldn't pull herself together.

"Come on, Maddie, you can do better than this," she muttered, dragging herself up from her seat. One hand reached out to take a pan, the other opening the fridge to see what was available.

Unfortunately, she forgot it was grocery shopping day. There was only moldy bread and a half empty carton of milk that looked past its expiration date. Inwardly, Maddie sighed. It would take too long to run to the store for food and cook it. Better to call in the pizza place.

Maddie brought herself over to the phone unwillingly. A weight of depression seemed to be pressing down on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. It was as though someone had sliced her heart in half and tore down the pieces. Depression.

Inside, Maddie knew, the idea was ludicrous. It wasn't the first time a ghost had escaped. Nor was it the first time she had failed to grasp the meaning behind a ghost's words. So then, why should she feel this way? Phantom was a ghost who had managed to escape, like any ordinary ghost. The one thing that set him apart was—

Psychoanalysis. Maddie told herself it was just an experiment, but perhaps it wasn't simply _just that_. Perhaps she had been trying to convince herself Phantom was just the same as any other ghost when he was not. He had human emotions, too human, she reflected. His claims, widely disproportionate, must be true. Psychoanalysis proved it.

But more than that, she had been analyzing herself. She wanted to show that her belief that all ghosts were evil were true. Despite all of the evidence, she was analyzing her mentality, to see if her values system was correct. It wasn't. All ghosts were not evil…and therefore, her system was flawed. Her entire beliefs came crashing down before she even had a chance to salvage it.

Her hand touching the phone wavered. There was a sort of sadness that came with the thought. What she had believed since the beginning of her line of work was gone with Phantom. The ghost kid.

Perhaps she wasn't cut out to be a scientist after all. Psychoanalysis was another "science", a sub-genre that Maddie should have studied instead of delving only into paranormal studies. Hunting and capturing ghosts was her life, never actually studying the mindset of the specimen she was examining. A poor scientist would execute his actions the same way she had.

And a poor mother she was too, seeing Jazz's reaction to her movements. They had only left a few ideas tumbling around, like Jazz's kiss. But others like that test Jazz gave—between an obsession and an occupation—showed the inability for her own psychoanalysis to be straightforward and finally on the right track.

Maddie stared at the phone in her hand for another second before placing it gently back into its cradle. She couldn't possibly order even pizza in the state she was in now. Family was important but Maddie needed to help herself before helping others. It was a strange thought, knowing that she was going to leave her family stranded even for a night in order to collect her own thoughts.

She grabbed a stationary and jotted down quickly, "Going out, Mom", after searching for a pen. Maddie glanced once more at the message before taking her keys to the Fenton RV and shutting the door behind her quietly.

The night was cool, refreshing almost. The sun had already long set beneath the fuzzy horizon line, behind the apartment buildings and street. Amity Park's welcome sign glinted faintly in the dim light of FentonWorks. Maddie gave a soft smile at that. Although Phantom had escaped and her entire mindset had crashed, there were still the same similar signs of home.

She swung one leg up onto the RV, pulling her entire body into it. One hand slid up to catch her fall on the inside, bouncing neatly onto the leathered seat. There had been a time where that movement gave her the tiniest bit of happiness and excitement—the move was strictly for ghost catching periods. Now it simply felt dull, a reflex to enter her van. For a moment, Maddie considered how strange it was that she would only enter her vehicle to hunt down the paranormal.

The thought passed. She slid the key into the engine, the RV rumbling to life. Ghost energy, the RV was run on. Ghost hunting weaponry, the dashboard was filled. The ghost symbols on the side of it, the RV gleamed. There were ghost hunting signs everywhere, just a simple reminder of the previous few hours. She sat, with the engine running, waiting for a sign to move.

The black sky indicated nothing of the sort would happen. Maddie sighed, and pushed the lever to 'drive'. She didn't know where she would go, but movement was constant. Movement was a reminder she had something to push forward, something to look forward to—a goal. Physical movement breathed back a small bit of life back into her as the RV shot forward.

Usually Maddie was a safe driver. Tonight, however, she didn't feel like abiding by the rules. The night was a freedom and release from the damp lab in Fenton Works. Without the slightest thought of caution, road rage belonged to Maddie tonight-not Jack Fenton.

Amity Park was quiet. No cars were on the street Maddie drove towards, the RV gunning down anything in the way. Despite the small part of her that said road rage was a surefire way to injure herself, Maddie didn't care. Her whole world had come crashing down with Phantom.

_Phantom_. What was the ghost kid's issue? Psychoanalyzing showed _feelings_. Feelings! Ghosts could not have complex emotions! It belonged to the _living_, the humans…her. Whatever affiliation she shared with the ghost needed to disappear. Phantom could have lied, could have manipulated her to believe all ghosts were capable of this. Phantom was _evil_, all of her evidence from other ghosts proved it!

But then, perhaps, Phantom wasn't the same. Just the thought consuming her showed Phantom wasn't bent on world domination…Maddie was the one who couldn't accept her mindset wasn't right with ghosts. Psychoanalyzing Phantom? She should have psychoanalyzed herself. Jazz was right, again. She had never given ghosts a chance before—an epiphany—

Maddie caught herself in the daydream too late. The RV swerved off the road, right into the park. Pink light flashed in her eyes, blinding her.

And then suddenly, it was all right. She found herself in someone's arms, latex covered arms that held on tightly as if for dear life. Maddie blinked the pink dots out of her eyes and saw that Phantom was holding her, his eyes intently glaring at someone—a ghost with a ray gleaming in his left hand.

Fear tightened in her chest. She looked down at the ground, safety. There, the Fenton RV was smashed against a lamp post, still smoking from the crash. It was only a vehicle, but Maddie found her eyes wetting quickly at the sight. _She could have died_.

And now, she could still die. Caught between Phantom and another vampire-like ghost, it seemed unlikely she would be welcomed with open arms here. Phantom's opponent towered over Phantom's slim figure, leering red eyes at her.

"You tried to kill the love of your life?"

The voice was screamed out, agonized—and from Phantom. Maddie saw his eerie green eyes widen in anger, frustration, as though he was puzzled yet furious at the turning of events. Danny's eyes. Her lower lip trembled. How much more of this tonight could she take?

Phantom looked down at her, realizing he had frightened her, and swooped down to set her gently onto the grass. Maddie saw concern in his expression, a steady gaze that examined her internally and externally. For a second, Maddie doubted it was there, really. But she shook her head, taking a step back. It was there, the concern. Phantom had not lied to her.

He flew upwards to face the other ghost, who looked gleeful at Phantom's fury. "I tried to warn you, Daniel," the other ghost said, the ghost ray disappearing. "I didn't _do_ anything…you caused her frustration, my boy. You caused the accident."

In that instant, Maddie could tell the other ghost struck a nerve with Phantom. His face drained of color, turning the pale skin into a sickly white. His hands clenched into fists, shaking with an anger that Maddie felt could only be described as "black". Phantom was a hero. And the thought of death, Maddie thought, would provoke Phantom into true violence.

She was right. Phantom didn't bother to look down to say a quick, "Cover your ears, Maddie" before unleashing a wail, the ghostly echo shrieking horrors. She had barely enough time to do as he said, rapidly pulling her hands to her ears as the howl blew back the ghost and park's trees backwards. Green light. It was an unnatural but strangely addicting sight, watching as Phantom let his fury out onto the other ghost.

It blew back the trees, bending them into an unshapely L form. The swing set ripped from the ground, the slide tipping over and tumbling down. Maddie watched in fascination and fear. Phantom's true power, it lay not in his ability for skill alone—that was true with the physical she had seen in the lab—but in his emotions. Phantom was different because he channeled energy through his feelings towards a situation…like humans.

The vampire ghost was long gone by the time Phantom finished loosening his anger. He dropped to the ground, gasping heavily for breath. Maddie barely registered the fact that Phantom was breathing, instead reaching instinctively for her Fenton ecto-blade in her jumpsuit pocket. The power Phantom had was too much, unnatural for a being such as him. A _ghost_. The blade pointed directly at Phantom's weak form on the ground.

Phantom looked up at her with bleary eyes. "You know I'm sorry Maddie?" he breathed. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Maddie blinked. It was the last response a ghost would have…but she reminded herself then that Phantom didn't have malicious intents. She lowered the blade. The odd feeling returned. She would have to get used to Phantom's strange mannerisms.

"I know you didn't," Maddie sighed as the ecto-blade slipped back into her pocket. "I was angry."

"What?" Phantom stared at her in confusion.

Maddie shook her head weakly. "I didn't listen to you before and now I'm trying to figure out ghosts. But it's stupid. You wouldn't understand. I think I just need to think things over at home myself."

Despite his obvious weakened state, Phantom observed her curiously. "I got through to you? Not all ghosts are evil, you know."

"I know."

In the sentence, Maddie admitted to herself her psychoanalysis had told her the truth. Her evidence previously was only—only blank science. Paranormalcy needed a new outlook to understand paranormal beings. Phantom was correct. And she had merely needed to psychoanalyze herself to know what Phantom had said.

"I'll take you home," Phantom said softly, his face curiously blank at Maddie's breakthrough. Maddie allowed herself to be taken in Phantom's arms, somehow cherishing the cold despite the breezy weather outside. Ghosts could be capable of human emotions after all…they had been one once.

The flight home was short, comfortably so. Phantom avoided looking into Maddie's eyes, as though he would find something cruel in them but his grip holding her was firm. Internally, Maddie winced, knowing the damage of the past year would need repairing after the endless amounts of time of fighting. It wouldn't be easy rebuilding her values system.

Phantom went intangible through the Ops Center roof and down through her bedroom to the kitchen. He set Maddie down into a chair before leaning back against the kitchen table top, folding his arms across his chest.

"Look, I know how much you care about ghosts," he began hesitantly. "And I know you're trying to pull together real psychological evidence, rather than blasting me apart, which I totally respect. So I'm just going to let you take me back again, okay Maddie? It's not worth it seeing you cry. Heroes don't let people worry about the small things."

"You just think you're a hero," Maddie retorted. But the reply seemed futile. She sighed, letting her head drop onto the kitchen table. It was cold, something metallic but she didn't care. The cold feel allowed her to think clearly.

Phantom shrugged in response. "Think whatever you like, but I still say I protect people. Or at least, I try to. Not sure if I'm actually successful…But that's not the reason why I'm here. You're trying to understand ghosts right now instead of melting them, so I want to help you." He held out his hands. Maddie stared at them in surprise. A ghost was saying he wanted to help her understand ectoplasmic beings? It must be a trick!

Phantom's next words stopped this train of thought abruptly. "Maddie…" he said quietly, letting his eerie echo of a voice float across the room. "Just promise me…you won't forget me. If I help you understand us, don't forget about me."

"Forget you?" The two words were barely a whisper.

"I'm scared my actions for a hero might be forgotten and then no one will be safe. There won't be anything good left to protect."

Maddie openly stared at Phantom's words. Did he mean a fear of losing himself? Yes, she could understand the same feelings. But then, there would only be one between the two who would be contained for these strange emotions. Not her. Phantom.

"You can have your freedom back," Maddie said, leaning forward to take Phantom's hand. "And I won't forget you. You're too unique to forget."

"I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing," Phantom muttered. But the words were so quietly spoken that Maddie let it pass.

"I just want to understand you so that I can—"

"What's going on?"

Maddie and Phantom whipped their heads around to face Jazz, who stood at the doorway. Her arms were crossed in defiance and self-righteousness, her face contorted in what Maddie supposed was a fierce scowl. Unfortunately, Jazz could never look angry and the expression merely looked comical on her.

"Jazz, leave us alone for a moment," Maddie said. Next to her, Phantom seemed to be nodding just as furiously as Jazz's scowl. Somehow, it was as though Phantom already knew Jazz…or the other way around. Their intent focus on each other's faces showed enough of it. An inkling of an idea sparked in Maddie's mind.

Jazz opened her mouth to argue but Phantom beat her to it. "Jazz, we're having a conversation. Could you give us a moment?" Maddie thought it was strange how his hero voice disappeared…and in its place was something curiously familiar.

Jazz glared at Maddie for another second, suspicious, but finally gave up. "Just don't pull out the guns, Mom," she said warningly before leaving the room. "I'll be upstairs."

Maddie glanced at Phantom. He seemed to agree at this, nodding his head ever so slightly. It was curious how a mysterious character could have such an open face book, she thought, especially when it concerned scientific evidence as the baffling part. Of course, she was basing it on the fact she had never been this close to the ghost kid without the urge to blast him apart…nor had she ever had the closest feeling to a breakthrough on the reason behind Phantom's nature.

"So, uh…" Phantom trailed off, looking at Maddie expectantly. His hand found its way to his neck, rubbing it nervously.

"What kind of chips do you like?" Maddie asked suddenly, leaning forward in her chair.

"Lime and vinegar," Phantom answered immediately. Then he paused. "What?"

"Nothing," Maddie said, internally smiling. "I think it's late. You should get some sleep—to fight ghosts tomorrow, right?"

"Uh. Right." Phantom frowned, confused by Maddie's words. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but…didn't, to Maddie's expectations, ask questions, merely fazing through the wall and turning invisible as he did so.

"Good night, Danny."


	7. Epilogue

Jazz immediately pounced on Danny the moment he entered his room. Unfortunately, he wasn't in his ghost form and couldn't turn intangible to get away from Jazz's needy hands.

"What did she say, Danny?" she demanded, pinning his arms down onto the bed. "Did she hurt you? What did she ask? Did you tell her anything important?"

"Jazz, I think you're hurting me more than Mom was," Danny said. His arms were seriously starting to hurt. Jazz had a wild grip when she wanted it to be.

Jazz frowned. "Just tell me what she said. Did she ask anything funny? Maybe you let something slip—"

Danny's eyes widened at this. For a moment, he stopped struggling, letting Jazz push him even deeper into the blankets and wire coils beneath his body. Thoughts swirled and swirled around in his head—

"Nothing, Jazz," he said calmly, despite the beating interior. "I saved her from Vlad, so she gave me my freedom in return. Now let me up."

Jazz reluctantly let her brother sit up. "Are you sure she didn't hurt you?" she asked, wringing her hands. "I'm sure she could have shocked you with the Plasmius Maximus or used the Fenton Ghost Catcher to get half of you or something else I'm sure is terrible—"

"She didn't hurt me that much," Danny replied, rubbing his arms.

"DANNY!" Jazz cried. "_That much_?"

"Well…maybe a little."

"Where? Did you say anything? Did she find out with all those questions? I knew I shouldn't have given them to Mom, of course she would just use them to get back at ghosts! You!"

"It's nothing to worry about Jazz."

"Danny," Jazz began heatedly. "I'm not that dumb. I know you're hiding something from me."

Danny shrugged in response. "I'm not hiding it if you already know I'm hiding something."

"I know you're hiding something that I already know but I—gah!" Jazz threw her hands up in frustration. "Mom wouldn't have let you go that easily, Danny, unless you said something to her. And she acted weird—weirder than normal, which is saying something. What did you tell her?"

"I just told her that she was finally trying to really understand us poor ghosts," Danny said, getting up from his seat. "Nothing much, although I did mention I really like lime and vinegar potato chips."

He shrugged once more, glancing expectantly at his sister. "Get it now, Jazz?"


End file.
